


Stormfront

by bexacaust



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Bitter Lovers, Emotional Baggage, M/M, relationship troubles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8410204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: There’s keloidal mountain ranges on their sparks and valleys of scorned words separating their thoughts and they don’t know what to do.





	1. Stormfront

_I know it breaks your **heart  
** Moved to the **city** in a broke down car  
And four years, no **calls**  
Now you’re looking **pretty** in a **hotel** bar _

They came together like the words of a spell and broke apart like the clouds roiling in a storm.

They reached out to brush fingertips over time and scars, space and stars- and they howled their goodbyes masked in curses and accusations and old bitter wounds that never healed up right.

There’s keloidal mountain ranges on their sparks and valleys of scorned words separating their thoughts and they don’t know what to do.

They’ve resigned themselves to this; this never-ending battle of spark versus processor. Of will versus way. And every time Drift kisses him like he needs him to _live_ , like hes the fire running through his lines unchecked- like he’s a battlecry sent to pull him from fear’s own perdition; Perceptor’s spark cracks and breaks along old lines and crumbles to dust only to rebuild itself harder and harsher.

And every time Perceptor is sprawled on Drift’s berth, his fans whirring and his optics lidded and dim Drift can almost pretend he never left; never ran from his demons when they chased him from their new hiding place on the Trion. And when Perceptor whispers Drift’s name like a prayer something snaps in the swordsmech and he has to destroy that whisper, that plea that sounds too similar to when Perceptor once asked him to _stay._

And so they collide like opposing stormfronts, like arctic winds and tropical seas and they create hellish cyclones that whip up the shards of old and broken promises like glass and shingles off the houses that once kept their dreams and hopes safe and sound.

And so they fold together like molten alloys and collapsing edges of galaxies and sent sparks a thousand daydreams high like they can burn away the past that still echoes with now-doubted I Love You’s like a televangelist’s promises.

And in their separate circles, in their binary orbits with their exoplanets soothing their hurts and hatreds and longings, they whisper the words that could heal them if they’d only say them _face to face._

_I **Love** You._

_I **Miss** You._

_I’m **Sorry.**_

_**Come Home.** _

* * *


	2. Editing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Dataentry #0447523 || Time: 00:47 || Filed Under: Journal Entry]
> 
> [Title of Log: Confessions of a Tipsy Idiot, Honestly]

I don’t want to fight anymore, love. But… It certainly seems that’s all we can do, isn’t it? Fight or frag.

It’s hard enough, knowing that you’re here and real and still so far away. Light years from me.

I’m tired, so tired. Tired of the yelling, the snarling, the slamming doors and this icy feeling behind my chestplate but- I can’t help it. I’m afraid, darling, I’m afraid of us, of you- of what you can do to me with a word, a gesture, a smile. Afraid of how much of me you still hold in the palms of your hands.

I remember when you left- you left and lived your name, Drift, you wandered away from me and there was little I could do to sway you from the decision.

I thought, once, my love was strong enough to coax you to stay by my side- I thought that the mech who watched the CR chamber would be content to watch time pass, with me.

And I was wrong, wasn’t I? To want to hold on to you.

I want to be able to say I got over you, us, whatever it was we shared.

But I’ve always been a terrible liar, haven’t I, dearest.

You shattered me, you did- it hurts to this very day and now here I sit. Sipping the swill I learned to make on a Wrecker’s ship and monologuing old wounds into the datapad I’ve dubbed some kind of journal.

You left, Drift, you left me in those shadowy places you once pulled me from like some holy being and its killing me to see you smile again and know… know that..

That its not for me, anymore.

This is stupid, I’m a bloody imbecile.

I should delete this log and pray no one finds me in the morning but I must admit this to someone or I feel it will tear me apart.

I miss you, damn it.

I miss you more than I miss Kimia and more than I miss my stupid bitter candies and if all I can have is a few nightly romps and bitter screaming matches then…

Then so be it.

I miss you Drift.

But… but just once. Once. I wish…

Please, just once, even if its just pretend; just for show?

Please stay past the morning.

**[Log end]**


	3. Handwritten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Document found, handwritten, in a half open desk drawer in the Command Office. Handwriting confirmed to be Drift’s by Co-Captain Megatron.]

I feel like I ruined you, somehow. Like it was my fault you went cold somewhere along the line.

But sometimes, here on the ship… you’re still there, Percy. But you go away again.

You’re colder, harder, strong in a way I don’t remember- but you’re still there, Percy. My Percy.

Sometimes, I see you peek through the mask. I hear you snort and I know you’re laughing to yourself when other mechs think you’re derisive and sarcastic. You are, don’t get me wrong but…

Sometimes, I see you through that mask. Past the targeting scope and past the monosyllabic answers. It’s like a sunrise, Perce, its like seeing the sunrise after a week hiding in ruins and everything is warm and I wanna- wanna reach out, see if its real.

But then the sunset comes, and we get bitter, and those old wounds open up like a torn weld.

I never meant for any of this to happen, lover. I didn’t mean for you to get bitter; I didn’t mean for us to part like we did, I didn’t mean it. And we fight and hiss things that I wish weren’t true, but they are and I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to fix things, Percy; I don’t even know how to fix myself.

That was always what you were good at.

I ran scared, I admit. I wish I could say it, I wish I could confess but I’m just a… just a guttermech. A circuitrat, running along the stormgutters away from any kind of attachment because I know deep down- deep down, where Deadlock still hides in a name and in memories I don’t want-

I know I don’t get to have anyone beside me for long. I didn’t want that for you, I didn’t wanna hurt you Percy- I wish I could make you believe that. I wish I could explain it, I wish a lot of things.

I made mistakes.

So did you.

I remember when yo first started going quiet. I remember the distance in your optics. I remember watching you pull away from me and I remember thinking it was my fault.

So I left.

I hoped it would help- not having me around. A reminder of a debt you never had to pay, that you never owed me. A reminder of nearly… dying.

You got so cold on me, Percy. So cold.

It was a mirror, Perce. I knew you, even then.

Dammitall, my optics are- nevermind it’s not important.

… So I leave. When we come together, I leave first. I leave when you’re in recharge, when you’re peaceful and soft and Percy again. And I leave so I can hold that picture in my processor; so I know that somewhere in there my Percy is hiding and maybe one day he’ll come back.

I miss you, Percy. I miss you more than I can even write.

Please come back- don’t leave like I did.

Don’t go where I can’t follow; don’t fall so far that I can’t try and pull you back out.

[ _Liquid stains obscure parts of the paper; some look to be the stains from (tears?) a drink, the smell of **engex** wafts from the half-crumpled page. A line is scrawled along the bottom, words shakily written but legible.]_

_Either **hate** me or **love** me again just stop **pulling** me back and forth damn it._


	4. Heart's A Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the cracks in the veneer began to show.

_It makes no **sense**_   
_When I’m **desperate** to connect_   
_And **you** \- you can’t **live** like **this.**_

They were fighting again. But this time, the air was heavy with melancholy, not rage.

And the cracks in the veneer began to show.

Their words whipped back and forth, flogging their plating and processors into frayed and cracked edges. They swore and ranted, railed and howled. The walls seemed to shake and the floor seemed to rattle as they slung words like live grenades and dropped their guard like iron doors with broken and rattling hinges.

“I can’t _LIVE LIKE THIS_ anymore Drift!”, screamed Perceptor.

“THEN ASK ME TO STAY AND MEAN IT PRIMUS DAMN IT ALL!”

Silence.

Perceptor stared in shock, Drift choked on his own silence and covered his mouth. He sat down slowly, finials dropping in perfect unison as he finally sat in Perceptor’s desk chair- the one with the creak, the one he’d had since University.

“Ask me to stay, let me stay.”, whispered Drift, leaning forward to put his helm in his hands, “I’d do anything for you, dammit, ANYTHING…. But I don’t even know if you’re my Percy anymore.”

Drift looked at him, lost and bitter and almost scared.

“You got so cold, lovermine. You froze over and there was nothing I could do… nothing I could say, nothing could stop you drifting into your own helm and away from me. So yeah, yeah I left.”

Drift sighed, “I figured… If I wasn’t there. If I wasn’t there, you’d never have to go back to that place in the past. You’d never have to revisit those memories, never have those nightmares and I was WRONG and I’m so… so sorry. I’m so sorry Percy, but I don’t know how to fix this. Fix _us._ I want to- I want to try, I want us to at least be damned _FRIENDS_ after all this but… this falling in and out of berth and favor I just… I can’t do it either. So choose one. Say the word.”

Perceptor stared in utter shock as Drift spoke, as the words tumbled from the white mech like a river through a shattering dam.

The silence stretched into infinity and snapped back to the present like a rubber band. Drift cursed under his breath, standing too straight, too sturdy, too tall-

“I’ll take your silence as a ‘get the hell out of my sight’ Perceptor.”, gritted Drift through clenched dentae, “Lemme know when you need a hard ride then, or whatever.”

Drift turned, his steps plodding and tired as he went for the door.

Perceptor meant to say _Wait. Stop._ Don’t _leave._

What came out was a confession he had shied away from since he first saw Drift on the Lost Light.

“I miss you, Primus above us do I miss you.”, blurted the sniper.

Drift stopped, turned, and tilted his helm.

Perceptor tried to reign it in, he tried to keep that icy mask in place but it broke- it broke when squeezing his optics shut made the reticule fall away and he was a wide-eyed scientist for a moment, forever, for a second.

“I’m a mess, an absolute bloody mess, over you. Still. To this day.”, he rambled, “I never got over you; I don’t think I ever can or ever WANT to-”

“Percy-”

“And that’s the ticket, isn’t it? That’s the sign, the variable you must focus on in this damned equation. I don’t _NEED_ you, Drift. You aren’t a substance or an addiction or a trophy or a symbol-”

Drift walked closer, watching the scientist fall apart with something like humility or affection in his eyes- Perceptor couldn’t tell as his vision blurred and he kept speaking, his spark thrumming with every word so he knew it was real.

“You’re a mech, you’re your own being and _I WANT YOU TO STAY_ \- it’s all I’ve ever wanted since you left the first… first time.”

His intake squeezed tight, and he shuttered his optics.

“You left, Drift, you left and took the sun with you.”, whispered the scientist, gripping the edges of the berth he didn’t remember sitting down upon for support, “It was gone and that’s when I realized it wasn’t worship, it wasn’t some silly obsession, it was something better and warmer and sweeter.”

He forced his optics open, “And it never left, even after all this time. But you smiled for other people, now. And I… I’m just the past.”

Drift sat down beside Perceptor, and the scientist looked at him.

“I’m the recent past, and you… you’re the Archives of history done in white and red. And I was jealous and angry and bitter. How easily it seemed you could forget about me; how little I seemed to mean.”

“Percy.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Drift.”, breathed the scientist weakly, “I’m… My spark and processor…”

“Are a mess.”, finished Drift, “But I like that mess. I miss that little chaos.”

“I miss you, Drift. Please, even just for tonight, even if its all just a dream or just this once…”

Perceptor felt Drift loosen the grip gun-worn servos had on a padded berth. He let himself sink into this small touch, this small softness for a moment.

“Please, _please_ stay past the morning. _Don’t leave._ ”

“…There’s my Percy again.”, said Drift gently, releasing one of Perceptor’s hands and chuckling at the huff it got him, “There’s my scientist. I found him again, he’s been hiding from me.”

“What.. do you mean, I-”

“You fell into your helm, Percy. All those years ago.”, said Drift quietly, “You fell into your helm, you were obsessed with never being weak again when you never were to begin with. I mean, the first time we met you fondled my plating and told me I was b-”

“Oh come on, I was excited.”, laughed Perceptor, “I had… never met anyone like you before.”

Drift’s faceplates heated, and Perceptor grinned.

“Drift?”

“Yeah Perce?”

“Please stay. For as long as you can.”

“How does forever sound?”

Perceptor’s voice cracked, and he nodded while his vocoder reset.

“Forever sounds perfect.”

Drift chuckled, “Excellent. However, in the morning, we-”

“We go to Rung, and talk to him.”, finished Perceptor, “We both have.. baggage. In our sparks. And if we want this to work, we need to make sure it doesn’t fester anymore.”

“Exactly. But for now-”, Drift murmured, moving close enough for their lipplates to brush, “Let’s get some rest, hm?”

“A-Agreed.”

Drift grinned, optics half lit as he carefully kissed Perceptor- a soft pressing of lip components. He felt Perceptor’s hands free themselves, tracing over the scarred and scuffed plating of Drift’s arms up and up to rest against a white chestplate.

Helms tilted, letting the kiss deepen until Perceptor hummed softly and his servos twitched.

Drift pulled back, just enough to see- just enough to see Perceptor’s starry-opticked expression and to feel his own spark flip in its chamber.

Perceptor dreamily moved to click off the lights with a tap of the bedside control pad, and they both clambered fully onto the berth to curl together in a hazy pile of limbs.

“Percy?”

“Yes, Drift?”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”, was the soft answer, “And many mornings after that.”

They kissed again, lazy and burning like flint and tinder and the new sparks of a waiting bonfire.

And the stormclouds dissipated. And the thunder ceased its rolling roar and lightning faded into memory. And the whirlwind of words calmed into a breeze as the light of a passing moon slanted into their window.

And there was peace.


End file.
